


Late Night Patrol

by The Neon Gang (clgfanfic)



Series: Magnificent Seven (TV) - Comfort's Bed [1]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Metafiction, Old West
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:05:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/The%20Neon%20Gang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buck gets curious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night Patrol

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Seven Card Stud #3 under the pen name Cheyenne Winnie, and then in the standalone novel Comfort's Bed.
> 
> This is part of a larger metafiction that includes the Old West and ATF Denver AU worlds. There are dreams within dreams, realities within realities,but it all works out in the end as a Chris/Vin world, so be warned if you prefer a different paring.

           Two of the seven regulators who guarded the small town of Four Corners rode through the quiet, moonlit desert, making sure no bandits or other outlaws bothered the local residents.  After several hours, they finally stopped for a short break and to let their horses drink from a tiny spring, both men taking the time to wipe their faces with already sweat-damp bandannas.

          "Damn," Buck sighed with frustration, "this damned heat's hangin' on too long.  Feels like it's never goin' to end."

          Vin grunted an affirmative reply.  It had been a long, hot summer, and even with autumn now upon them it hadn't cooled significantly.  Blistering days faded into stifling nights, with not even a breeze blowing to provide some respite from the constant heat.

          And, taking advantage of the general malaise that had settled over townsfolk and farmers alike after a few months of unending high temperatures, the outlaw element had crept out of hiding, plaguing the already suffering community with raids and robberies.  After JD had nearly gotten himself killed while out alone on a nighttime patrol, Chris had doubled the peacekeepers up so no one would be caught out by himself like the young sheriff had been.  It meant more work for all of them, but no one was complaining about that, just the heat.

          Buck looked over at the tracker, asking, "You plannin' on us ridin' by the Carson place?"

          Vin nodded with a "Yep," as he squatted down to check the ground around the spring for any signs the outlaws might have passed by this way.

          Buck grinned.  "Then we'll head back to town?"

          Another nod as Vin reached out, tracing a hoofprint in the desert sand with his fingertip.

          Wilmington's grin widened.  "Then whatdaya say we stop by the water hole and take us a nice _cool_ swim on the way back?"

          The tracker glanced over his shoulder, meeting the ladies' man's hopeful blue eyes.  Buck looked like a little boy, hopeful and full of mischief.  He cocked his head in a shrug, saying, "Sounds all right t' me."

          "Good man," Wilmington said, stepping forward to give Tanner a slap on the back.  "Y' know how hard it is t' spark a pretty gal when you smell like a sweaty ol' horse?"

          Tanner sighed and shook his head, Buck's exploits with the ladies were nothing short of legendary, at least in the ladies' man's mind.

          They mounted their horses and continued on their patrol, reaching the good-sized watering hole, fed by a stream that ran year round – one of the few in the area – just after two in the morning.  The air was still hot as both men swung down off their horses.

Knowing his gelding's penchant to wander off, Vin tied Peso securely to a ironwood tree.  Buck left his grey ground-tied, knowing she wouldn't wander too far away from the water, then started stripping off his clothes, piling them up on a large rock.  When he was naked, he splashed into the cool water, and then dove under the surface to swim out to the center of the hole.

          "Come on!" he urged Vin, who had only gotten his hide coat off.  "How the devil do you stand it?  Wearin' all them clothes on a night like this?"

          The tracker shrugged as he pulled his boots off.  "Jus' used t' it, I reckon."

          Buck shook his head, running his hands over his hair to push some of the excess water out while he watched the tracker slowly undress under the light of a nearly full moon, revealing a handsome, muscular young man under all the baggy clothes.  Wilmington could also see several fine white lines, scars, on the tracker's body.

          _Damn_ , he thought, _that boy's seen some tough livin'_.  He shook his head, waiting and watching as Vin walked into the water, then sank down, disappearing below the surface for several seconds before popping up again, water streaming down his face and from his long hair.

          "Feels good, don't it?" he asked Tanner.

          Vin nodded and smiled.  "That it does."

          Buck arched up with a long "Ahhhh," and allowed himself to float on the surface of the water, enjoying the coolness that enveloped him, his first real respite from the heat in several days.  He groaned with pleasure and heard Vin chuckle softly in reply.

          "Sure does feel good," he said by way of a defense.  "Could stay here all night."

          "Guess we could if y' want," Vin said.  "Be cooler out here by the water 'n back in town."

          "Hey, we might as well, huh?" Buck said.  "They won't have time t' worry 'bout us if we head back at dawn."

          "Y' want some coffee?" Vin asked him.  The tracker packed supplies in his saddlebags as a matter of course – in case he ended up being kept out overnight when he went on a patrol.

          "Sounds good," Buck agreed, "but I ain't ready to get out just yet."

          "Hell, neither am I," Vin replied.  "Just plannin' ahead."

          Buck laughed, still floating on the surface of the water.  Then he let his legs drop and began to tread water in a deeper spot.  He saw that Vin had copied his example and was floating nearby.  The ladies' man took a moment to look the tracker over.

Tanner was a handsome man, well built and muscular in a wiry kind of way.  He didn't really look much older than JD, although Buck guessed he had to be in his late 20s.  Then the ladies' man frowned, trying to remember any time he'd seen the tracker with a pretty gal – besides his ill-fated tryst with Charlotte on that wagon train trip – and came up empty.

He shook his head.  That just wasn't natural.  JD hadn't gotten around to sowing his oats just yet either, but Vin was several years older than JD, and Tanner didn't have a gal like Casey to spark with either.

          Buck had known a few men over the years who had preferred the company of their own hand to spending money on a whore, but the tracker just didn't strike him as that miserly.

          Tanner did spend a good deal of time out on the reservation, or in the Seminole village.  For all he knew, Vin might have himself an Indian woman, or wife for that matter.  And then there was all that time he spent out by himself.  Lord knew where the tracker went on those trips, or what he did.

          Still, it just struck the ladies' man as strange.  But then, Vin had always seemed a little odd to Buck, who was almost the exact opposite of the quiet, self-contained tracker.

When he thought about it, Tanner was much more like Chris Larabee than he was like Buck Wilmington.  But then maybe that was one of the reasons why Buck liked the younger man – he felt familiar, just like Chris did, and always had.  But Vin didn't have the same dark shadows haunting his soul that Larabee did.

Or maybe he did, Buck considered.  There was no way to know since the tracker hardly ever spoke about himself, or his past.  In fact, besides the fact that he was wanted for a murder he didn't commit, and had once been a bounty hunter, Buck knew absolutely nothing about the man.  He suspected the only one Vin had shared his past with was Chris, and that was just a guess on his part.

          He watched the tracker float past him and swam over so he could stand in the soothing water.  Hs hair was almost dry, the nighttime air still so warm, so he dunked his head again, enjoying the way the water cooled his scalp.

          Yes, if Vin had talked to anyone, it was Chris.  The two of them were close.  Watching the two men together, Buck would have sworn that they'd found a way to talk inside each others' heads.  It was downright uncanny sometimes how they seemed to communicate without speaking a single word.  In many ways, Buck envied Vin his relationship with Chris.  There had been a time when he and Larabee had been that close – inseparable, really.  But that had been back before that night, and the fire. . . .

          Buck sighed softly, the familiar guilt still haunting the corners of his heart – a feeling he knew he would never escape.

          Then, he cocked his head to the side and stared at the tracker, still floating on the surface of the water like he'd fallen asleep there.  Pale moonlight reflected off the tracker's chest, which was dusted with fine, brown hair, and his poker, which was pulled up tight against his lower belly.

          A long-forgotten tingle tickled Buck's groin.  Maybe Chris and Vin were more alike than he'd ever thought, he considered.  Long ago, before Adam, before Sarah, when there had only been the two of them – fresh away from the war and trying their best to get themselves killed in one or another of the range wars that had broken out – they had taken their pleasures whenever and wherever they had found them.  And when there had been none to be bought or found, they had told each other dirty jokes and pumped themselves, or each other, creating their own pleasures.

          But neither of them were like the strange man who had passed through Four Corners, spending his life dressed up and acting like a woman, or the foppish dandies they had both seen in the cities, or the predators who prowled the POW camps, prisons, opium dens, and other places where there were men who could be taken advantage of, or who were willing to trade their bodies for protection, food, or drugs.

But there had been other men too, regular fellows who, for the most part, just didn't seem interested in the ladies' charms.  Fellows who preferred the company of other men, like Vin seemed to.  Buck had seen two of them together once, and it had brought back memories of his times with Chris, the two of them spilling their seed from feeling purely randy and without a gal around to poke.

He had watched those two men from his hiding place, his hand quickly finding himself so he could join in their shared pleasure.  And it appeared to be pleasure indeed.

          Was Vin like them?  Did he have a lover hidden out on the reservation, or in the Seminole village?  Had he and Chris–?

          The thought ended abruptly when Vin asked, "Somethin' wrong?"

          Buck's head jerked up and he blushed.  "Huh?"

          "Y' look like yer watchin' a snake 'bout t' bite ya."

          The ladies' man chuckled self-consciously and shook his head.  "Naw, I was just thinkin' 'bout me and Chris . . . years ago," he said, catching the brief flash of envy and sadness that crossed the tracker's face so fast he couldn't really be sure it was real, or just his imagination.

          "Guess I'll go get that coffee on a fire," Vin said in his usual rasp.

          Buck nodded, watching the man head for the edge of the water hole.  He frowned.  He had seen Chris pay for time with a few whores since he had settled in at Four Corners, but his heart hadn't been it in – that much had been clear – and now he wondered if Larabee hadn't been paying for companionship rather than sex.  Still, he was a man, and a man had needs.

          _Who takes care of Vin's needs?_ he wondered, watching the man pull himself up out of the water and walk over to build a small fire, his bare skin drying in the warm air.

          Chris wasn't taking care of him.  Buck knew that much for certain.  If the two men had been in a relationship like that, he would have known.  Larabee was completely unable to contain his joy when he was in love.  It shone from his face like some angelic glow.  And love would be the only thing Chris could ever permit to dispel the shroud of grief he still wore, as black as his clothes.

          But where did that leave Vin?  He was close to Larabee, very close, but did he love Chris?  Was he in love with the man?

          Buck waded through the water to the edge and climbed out.  He pulled on his boots and walked over to join Vin as he squatted near the fire, preparing the coffee.  The tracker was already dry and the ladies' man could feel the hairs on his body prickle as the water evaporated off of his own body as well.

          "Need any help?" he asked Vin.

          "Nope."

          Nodding, Buck walked over to his horse, leading her over a tree near Peso and tying her there.  Then he pulled off her saddle and carried it over and dropped it on the ground.  Returning, he removed Peso's saddle and carried it over closer to the fire as well.  That done, he untied his bedroll and rolled it out on the ground, then sat down on it, not bothering to dress.

          He watched as Vin set the coffeepot near the fire, then dug into his saddlebags, looking for something to eat.  He found some jerky and a bandanna tied up and holding several biscuits.

          Looking up, Vin asked, "Y' hungry?"

          Buck grinned and nodded.  "Most always."

          Tanner grinned back and handed the ladies' man half of his jerky and biscuits.  "Coffee'll be ready pretty quick."  And with that he stood and fetched his own bedroll, placing it across the small fire from Buck's and then sat down to wait on the coffee.  The small size of the fire meant they would have to wait a little longer than usual, but neither man wanted to add to the heat.

          Wilmington grinned slightly, realizing that neither of them had bothered to get dressed, except for their boots.  It was still too hot, and the slight breeze blowing over the water felt too good on their naked bodies.  Besides, the chances of anyone dropping in on them was slim enough he doubted even Ezra would give him any odds.  Still, just to be careful, he stood and walked over to the rock where he had left his clothes and revolver, carrying all of it back and dropping it in a pile on one end of his bedroll.  He saw then that Vin's Mare's Leg was within easy reach of the tracker's hand – Vin cautious, as always.

          Sitting back down, he glanced across the fire at the tracker and decided that he was pleasant to look at, for a man.  The memories from that long ago night filled his thoughts again as he sat, waiting for the coffee.  The two strangers' faces dissolved in his mind's eye, being replaced by his own and Vin's.

          "Must be thinkin' 'bout Miss Daisy, huh?" Vin asked him.

          Buck blinked and shook his head to scatter the slightly disturbing images.  "What?"

          Vin grinned and nodded.

          Buck glanced down, finding his cock full and pointed up at his chin.  He blushed a deep red and laughed nervously.  "Yeah, guess I was," he admitted sheepishly.

          "Coffee's ready," Vin told him, handing him a tin cup full of the steaming brew.

          Buck accepted the coffee and the pair ate their meal in silence.  When they were done, Tanner filled their cups again.

On his bedroll, Vin leaned back against his saddle and stared up at the star-filled sky.  Wilmington still sat, his back pressed against his own saddle.

"Whatcha see up there?" Buck asked him.

"Change in the weather."

The ladies' man looked up, wondering what sign or signs the tracker had seen to tell him that, but he could see nothing but stars and a deep purple sky.  "'Bout time," he said.

The silence fell between then again for a while, and then Buck cleared his throat and asked, "Don't see y' spendin' much time with the ladies. . ."

"Ain't many ladies 'round ain't been spoken fer . . . or busy tryin' t' catch yer eye, or Ezra's."

Buck shrugged and chuckled.  "Y' got a point there, stud . . . But don'tcha ever get lonely?"

Vin rolled his head to the side, catching Buck's gaze through the dancing flames.  "Whatever yer tryin' t' work yerself up t', jus' ask 'n' get it over with."

Buck huffed out a breath and sucked in a deep one.  He wasn't sure he wanted to ask.  Hell, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.  And he sure as hell didn't want to make Vin mad, or chase him off.  Chris might not be in love with the man, but he cared deeply for him, and he had faced enough loss already.

"Just makin' conversation," he said lamely.

Vin held his gaze a moment longer, then looked back up at the stars.

Suddenly aware of his nakedness, Buck reached for his clothes, intending to dress, but he was stopped short when Vin said, "Y' don't have t' put yer clothes on.  Ain't goin' t' do nothin' t' harm ya."

"Never thought you would," Buck replied immediately.

Tanner looked back at him, weighing the truth in the comment, and then nodded.

"I've met a few men. . ."  Buck trailed off, still not sure what he wanted to say, or how to do it.  He huffed out a sigh.  "Way I look at it, a man's only as good as his word and his deeds, and your word's good as gold.  As for deeds, well, you've saved my life too many times to count, and you've done me a turn I'll never be able to repay."

"How d' y' figger?" Vin asked, looking a little nervous.

"Chris," Buck replied softly.  "That man was on a short road to Hell when he crossed your trail, pard.  Whatever you did, it put 'im back on the side of livin' again.  Ain't sayin' it's been easy for him, but at least he's trying to live, not get himself killed like he was last time I saw 'im.  He's my oldest friend – my best friend – but I couldn't do for him what you did.  Tried, but just couldn't do it.  And for that I'll be in your debt 'til the day I die."

"Didn't do nothin'," Vin muttered self-consciously and looked away.

"You might not think so, but there's somethin' between you two. . ."  Buck flashed the man a smile when he looked at him, something close to terror on his face.  "I just mean y' got under his skin, made him care about somebody 'sides himself."  Vin looked away again and the ladies' man frowned.  "Hell, Vin, didn't mean t' say anything wrong."

"Y' didn't," Tanner replied softly, sadly.

Buck's voice dropped to a soft but intense whisper.  "You love him, don't you."  It wasn't a question, the ladies' man already sure of the answer, or at least of the truth, no matter what the tracker said.

"Not sure," was Tanner's reply.

"But you've got feelings for him."

"I care 'bout all y' skunks, tho God knows why."

Buck laughed.  "Hell, any of us can say that.  But Chris . . . well, he's special to you, isn't he?"

"Y' goin' t' ride me 'til I drop on this?"

The ladies' man grinned.  "Yep, guess I am at that."

Vin sighed loudly and said, "Yeah, I got special feelin' fer 'im.  Y' happy now?"

"What kind of feelings?" Buck asked him.

Vin looked back at the man, sighing loudly and holding Wilmington's curious gaze as he said, "Ain't somethin' y'd understand, Bucklin."

"Might surprise ya.  Try me."

There was a long silence, the fire burning down to embers and casting their camp into deeper shadows, but the moon- and starlight still made it possible for Buck to see Tanner's expression as he finally said, "When I was livin' with the Indians . . . they don't look at life, or love, the same way white folks do."

"Did you have an Indian . . . companion?" Buck asked him.

Vin nodded once.  "Taught me most all I know 'bout trackin'."

"Did you love him?"

"Guess maybe I did."

"What happened to him?"

"Army.  He and some of the others refused to be moved onto a reservation in the Indian Territory . . . tried t' fight . . . they killed him."

"I'm sorry," Buck said softly, sincerely.

Silence wrapped them again, broken by the start and stop of the cicada buzz.  Buck turned the idea over in his mind – Vin had once had a male lover – probing it like he would a hole in a tooth.  Finally he asked, "What was it like?"

"What's it like when yer with Miss Daisy?"

"Like everything perfect's just waitin' right there for me to take it in my hands."

Vin thought for a moment, then snorted softly and said, "Y' got a poet's heart, Bucklin."

"Just part of my animal magnetism."

Vin grinned thinly and shook his head.  "Made me feel . . . like I'd found a home . . . felt safe . . . special.  Filled up m' heart and made m' body ache t' be touched and loved."

"Mmm," Buck replied, closing his eyes.  "Ain't that the truth of it."

"Don't figger that's ever goin' t' happen 'tween me and Larabee."

"Probably not," Buck agreed with him.  "But what the two of you do have, well, it's a precious thing."

"I know," Vin replied.  "I do know."

"And it feels good, when another man. . .?  You know."

Vin chuckled softly.  "Damn, Bucklin, if y' want t' know 'bout it that bad, find yerself–"

"Show me," the ladies' man interrupted.

"What?" Vin nearly yelped.

"I _do_ want to know.  So, show me."

"Like hell I will!"

Buck looked hurt as he replied, "Why the hell not?"

Vin opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out, the tracker at a complete loss as to what to say.

"We're friends, aren't we?" the ladies' man asked him.

"Yeah, but–"

"Hell, Vin, even Chris and I spent a few nights under the stars, tellin' each other dirty jokes and pulling our pokers together."  He wagged his eyebrows at the younger man's surprised expression.  "Pulled his a few times while he pulled mine, too."

"Y' did?" Tanner asked, his eyes rounding even wider with surprise.

Buck nodded, then stopped and grinned.  "Hell, y' might have a better chance 'n y' thought, come to think of it!  Never heard him complain!  'Course I do seem to have a certain talent when it comes to love-makin'."

Vin blushed deeply and shook his head.  "Don't need the whole story, Bucklin."

Wilmington laughed and reached down to grab himself.  "Know how to make a snake stand up and dance, too," he said, stroking himself seductively a couple of times.

Vin groaned and quickly looked away, but Buck saw the tracker's cock swell a little in reaction.

"Want me t' prove it to ya?"

"No!"

"All right, your loss, stud," Buck replied, still stroking himself, his poker growing hard and full under his practiced touch.  "Bet you wish you could reach out and take a hold of his pecker . . . it's a big one, too . . . run your hand up and down that smooth skin. . ."

"Shut up, Buck," Vin hissed, but his arousal gave the truth away.

"Bet it'd feel real good if y' wrapped your fingers 'round the top, feel it weeping. . ."

"Fuck," Vin growled, rolling up onto his feet and stalking off to the water hole.  He pulled his boots off and dove in.

Buck scrambled to his feet and followed the tracker, pulling his own boots off and jumping into the water as well.  He swam over to where Vin stood on the far side of the hole, staring out at the night.

"Hell, Vin, I'm sorry," he apologized.  "Didn't mean t' tease ya like that.  You know my mouth can run away from me. . ."

Tanner nodded and sighed softly, "Only hurts 'cause it's true."

Buck moved closer to the tracker, catching sight of the tear tracks on his cheek in the moonlight.  "Ah, hell, I really am sorry, Vin," he said again.

"Ain't yer fault . . . I learned t' live alone after Blue Feather died . . . then I took this damned job from the Judge and. . ."  He trailed off, shaking his head.

"And fell in love again," Buck finished for him, "with another man, a white man this time.  You should tell him."

Vin turned to meet Wilmington's eyes.  "Why?  All I'd get is shot, or run off."

Buck started to reply, but realized he had no good answer for the tracker.  Larabee might not appreciate knowing the man's true feelings.  "Ah, hell," he sighed.

"Been takin' care 'a m'self fer a long time now," Vin said softly.  "C'n keep on doin' it jus' fine."

Buck nodded, trying to imagine what it would be like, to really love someone and not be able to be with them . . . what it would have been like for Chris, if Sarah had been unobtainable.  It was too painful to even imagine.

Without really thinking, he reached out and drew Vin against his chest in a tender hug.  The tracker's muscles stiffened, but he didn't try to jerk away.

"Hell, Vin, I ain't goin' to bite you." 

Tanner snorted softly and Buck felt him relax slightly.  "That's better," he said, reaching up to rub his hand over Vin's back.

The reaction he got then was completely unexpected.  The tracker jerked violently and Wilmington realized the man was fighting back another sob.  "Ah, hell," he said softly, pulling Vin closer and holding him tightly as his body shook soundlessly.  "Easy, pard," he whispered.  "Easy.  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean t' hurt you."

"Y' didn't," was the rasping reply, "jus' hurts.  Hurts real bad sometimes."

Buck nodded.  He waited until it felt like Vin had regained some control, then he turned the tracker back toward their camp, saying, "Come on, let's go get dried off and get some sleep."

Tanner nodded, his head hanging down.

"Come on," Buck urged again.

They swam back across the hole and climbed out.  They pulled their boots on and walked back to the bedrolls.  Buck built the fire back up a little so they could take their boots off and let them dry in the still-warm night air.

Vin laid down on his bedroll, his back to the fire and to Buck.

The ladies' man watched him of a while, but it was clear the man didn't want to talk any more.  Not that Buck blamed him.  He had gone tramping through some damned personal terrain, stirring up feelings that would have probably been better left alone.  But there was no way to change it now.

With a sigh, he lay down on his bedroll, but he couldn't force his eyes to close.  He rolled onto his side and stared at Vin through the flames, enjoying the way the shadows played across the man's back and legs . . . and across his backside.

That thought brought the memories back again, and he licked his lips, trying to imagine what it would be like to watch Chris take Vin like that . . . or take him himself like that.

That idea sent a bolt of pure desire flashing down his poker and it immediately began to lengthen along his belly.  He reached down and began to gently stroke himself again, letting the images unfold uncensored in his mind's eye . . . the way the man had danced on the end of the other's poker as it drove in and out of him . . . the way their heads had jerked back, their bodies convulsing at the same time . . . the arcs of seed that shot from the one's pecker, landing in the pine needles. . .

They had looked so contented afterward as they cuddled together, talking softly, sharing the words lovers shared, he guessed, touching, delighting in their bodies the way he did with the women he slept with.  It had looked right for the two strangers and he'd left them there to their lives, their love.

Looking over at Vin, he hoped the younger man would find someone to love him like that one day.  Hell, Chris was a little wild, or he had been.  There wasn't really any reason to think he'd reject a relationship with the tracker out of hand . . . but, Buck had to admit, the more he thought about it, the more the desire to feel the tracker writhing under his hands and cock began to burn in his blood.  Would Vin jerk and dance like that if it was Buck filling him?  Would Vin have that same look of bliss on his face when he started shooting his seed?

Buck's fingers tightened on his cock and he pulled harder, imagining the tracker moving under him.  The image made him incredibly hard and lustful.  Closing his eyes, he let his imagination take over as he worked his aching cock.  And before long he was shooting into to the desert sand beside the fire.

He fell back onto his back, breathing a little hard and looked up at the stars.  As the sweat slowly dried on his skin, he thought about the man lying nearby.

Of all the men he worked with, he was closest with Chris, because of their long-standing friendship, but after Larabee, he felt closest to JD and Vin.  JD was the little brother he'd never had, but had always wanted.  Vin . . . well, Vin was Vin.  There was just something about the man that had held his attention, and now he had to wonder what, exactly, that something was.

Maybe he'd always seen the tracker in the place of that stranger.  He wasn't sure.  But he decided then and there that he was going to find out what it was like to love the tracker like that.

And, he realized, he did want to love the man.  He wanted to make him smile, make him laugh.

He snorted softly and shook his head at himself.  Hell, he wanted to court that man.  And why not?

He closed his eyes and let sleep take him, excited about the strange turn his life had taken out in the hot desert night.

 

[The Buck/Vin arc continues in "Revelations."]

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

* ~ *


End file.
